


Rise Like Wild Mint

by voleuse



Category: InCryptid - Seanan McGuire
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 14:45:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5501354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voleuse/pseuds/voleuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>I'll swim from the dark red light, hike through black-eyed aspen</em>.<br/>HAIL, or, the origin of Litanies Oft Gone Unobserved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rise Like Wild Mint

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Snow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snow/gifts).



> No spoilers, but leaning heavily on [**the wonderful short stories**](http://seananmcguire.com/icshorts.php) on Seanan McGuire's website.

  
_It can be easy to forget that Aeslin aren't cute Disney cartoons come to life._  
_They're vicious fighters when they have to be, and they've survived in a world filled_  
_with bigger, meaner, better-armed creatures by being smart and absolutely ruthless._  
_That's something else they have in common with our family._  
_Prices and Aeslin always,_ always _, shoot to kill._  
\- Verity Price, _Midnight Blue-Light Special_  


****  
**_i. The Day of Coming Awake_ **

When a blow did not descend, the Aeslin mouse shivered from thwarted anticipation. Her nose quivered, taking in the scents of iron, of lavender, of blood. And sulfur--a match flared, and she blinked as her eyes adjusted rapidly to the flame. She raised her face to meet the gaze of the Covenant woman before her. She twisted her paws together, quivering, but she did not cower. She was the Third Deacon of the God Descended, and she did not fear the tomb.

The Covenant woman cursed as the match burned down to her fingers, then she lit another one. Fumbled with something in her belt, which revealed itself to be a candle.

The Third Deacon of the God Descended waited, her instincts torn between scampering through the woman's legs and composing cantos that would blend into the God Descended's funeral song. Then the Covenant woman's feet shifted, and she folded down, crouched, until she was only a tower above the Third Deacon, rather than as tall as the Heavens.

"I'm sorry," the woman said. "I'm sorry if I frightened you."

The Third Deacon cocked her head.

The woman looked over her shoulder, then lowered her voice to a whisper. "I've never heard a mouse sing before. How did you do it?"

The Third Deacon came to a decision, and straightened. "We sing the Songs so we do not forget." She let her tail flick and wrap around her feet. "And it comforts me."

The woman rocked back on her heels, before thumping to the floor. "Are there more of you?"

"There are." The Third Deacon, who would soon be renamed, reached one paw forward, in a gesture she had seen the Priest of the God Descended make many times. "And there will be."

 

 ** _ii. The Patient Priestess_**  
Enid Healy did not seek out the Aeslin's colony unless the First Finder asked expressly for her presence. In these times, there were not many colonies left, and Enid was loath to bring the Covenant's attention to any that remained secret. What she knew of Aeslin mice, previously, had been solely what other members of the Covenant had told her: that Aeslin mice were cunning, that they were ungodly, and that they were fairly simple to exterminate once found.

She remembers one of her cousins bragging about clearing out a colony, just a few weeks ago. There had been a farmer, if she remembers correctly, defending them. She remembers her cousin's disgust, though whether it was for the farmer's protectiveness or the mice themselves, she wasn't sure.

They had killed the farmer. _A traitor to humanity_ , they called him.

To hear them boast then had been sickening, but now, it brought her blood to boiling. She'd only seen the First Finder's colony once, but it had been wondrous. In the confines of an abandoned root cellar, their warren had been bright with songbird feathers and polished scraps of silver. As the First Finder introduced Enid to the mice, her little paws had clutched against her thumb, tapping out a rhythm as she told the story of their meeting to the group, and to an elderly mouse cloaked in sparrow feathers. 

Their songs had filled the root cellar, trilling eerily until Enid felt tears welling. "Thank you," she had said then, and knew that her entire world had changed.

 

 ** _iii. The God of Uncommon Sense_**  
A mouse that arrived seemed more child than warrior as it waited on Enid's bureau. Its spear was lying at its feet, forgotten as the mouse nibbled on the wedge of sage derby cheese Alex had retrieved for it.

"Three hundred mice," Alex mused. 

"Not counting the Young Who Have Yet to Sing," the mouse piped up.

Alex nodded. "Can't exactly stow them in a steamer trunk."

"Rather too airtight." Enid, seeing the mouse had finished its cheese, handed it a few crumbs from her sweet roll. 

"And what about food?" Alex folded his arms. "Bread is easy enough, I suppose, but meat will spoil by the end of the journey."

"Oh, never mind that," Enid said, popping the rest of the roll into her mouth.

The mouse picked up its spear. "We will hunt for our meat."

"Ah." Alex seemed to ponder that a bit, then nodded again. "I imagine there will be plenty of rats on hand."

"So it's just a matter of getting them aboard," Enid said. "They'll have an easier time of it than we will, I suspect. Oh," she frowned, "how awful it will be, to leave your home behind."

The mouse set its spear down again. "Priestess," it said. She put her hand forward, and it quivered. "You honor me." It touched her thumb with its paw. "You, Patient Priestess, brought us Blessed Hope During the Burning Time." It gestured at Alex. "And the God of Uncommon Sense offers us passage to Lands Beyond the Song." 

"Rather poetic," Alex remarked, and Enid waved at him to shush.

"We will follow you," the mouse said, simply.

Then Alex snapped his fingers. "Crates! Those will do quite nicely, I think. Nested within few larger ones, and with plenty of hay and bread."

Enid smiled. "Please convey the news to the First Finder," she told the mouse. It scampered off, missing Enid's expression as she bit her lip. "I hope mice don't get seasick."

 

 ** _iv. The Migration_**  
The Aeslin mice, as far as Enid heard, did not get seasick.

Alex, however...

 

 ** _v. The Lands Beyond the Song_**  
Once back on land, there was a warehouse for a few weeks. Enid and Alex stayed at a boarding house while they arranged further transport. The mice cleared the warehouse of rats and, once, a very unexpected cockatrice. The First Finder led them in the Rites of the Consecrated Hunt, as well as the Litanies of Coming Awake. 

On the journey West, the Priest of the God Descended breathed his last. They buried him in Altoona. Enid joined them in their Liturgy for the God Descended, her voice a low croon counterpoint to theirs. 

Later, the First Finder and the newly-anointed Priest of the Exodus joined Enid and Alex as they ate dinner cooked over a campfire. The tall grass around them was rustling-thick, and the birds swooping overhead were like strange ghosts. After rummaging amongst their bags for a while, Enid unwrapped a large cake, slightly stale and studded with nuts. She set it on the ground. "For when the evening prayers are complete," she explained.

The mice chirped their thanks, then took their leave. Enid wrapped the cake up loosely again, and Alex ran his palm, warm, against her back. She looked over at him. "Oh, Alex."

He blinked the tears from his eyes and smiled. "I am," he said, "very glad they found us."

Enid leaned against him, and then the mice began to sing.

**Author's Note:**

> Title and summary adapted from [**Catherine Pierce**](https://catherinepierce.wordpress.com/)'s "The Heaven I Hope For."


End file.
